Beauty and the Brute [Werescape III] Read online

  This hater of Normals was releasing me.

  “Thank you,” I whispered and bolted.

  * * * *

  About thirty minutes before sunrise, the mansion vibrated with tension as Brutus waited with the Guardians near the manor's front entrance, outside, in the saddle, trying to appear innocent. Rested and fed, Trance fidgeted with the gathering search party. Not because the other stallions challenged him. Probably because he could feel the need I had to get down to the Gods-be-damned warehouse I'd tracked Beauty's trail to last night and reach her before anyone else. Including Titus. The Guardian's shame of losing his charge kept him scanning the buildings and roads.

  But Beauty had escaped. Beaten them all. My fault. Yes. But she'd done it.

  Hurry. Wolf growled.

  Trance shifted his footing with a light step.

  Almost shying at nothing the others could detect. Sensing my inner Wolf's drive for dominance. I tugged the reins enough to warn the stallion to calm down.

  The door burst open. Yale stormed out in hunting garb.

  Camouflage. His face almost blood red.

  He pointed at Titus. “Come with me.” He turned to the rest of us. “The man who brings me

  Lady Lorelei, unharmed, will be wed to Lady June tomorrow.”

  Shit. What a bargain. Not good for Beauty.

  The crowd shimmied with motion.

  Why in the hell would anyone want her? All the same Lorelei was screwed. If any Shifter didn't want June, one of his relatives or friends did. I had to hurry, inconspicuously. Find the little escapee. Yale's wild card.

  “Bring my mount,” Yale shouted.

  Yale threw a leg over the saddle, shot Titus a warning glare, and rode out with Glover and the

  Shifter.

  We were free to go.

  To just dash for the warehouse would be foolish. I had to be clever. Plot. And hope nobody else had found her scent trail. The Shifter's nose was the most powerful weapon on the planet.

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  * * *

  Chapter Two

  Lorelei squeezed the handles of the wire cutters together with her aching palm. The twofoot-

  deep tangle of barbed wire put up a good battle. But I brought a leather jacket and had the sense to start long before sunrise, snipping the twisted wire, shoving back the loose ends, trying to literally bite my way through the thick tangle of manmade steel. The gap I'd cleared away spread as wide as the wall was thick. More because I had to fight the loose ends to get them to stay put when tucking them securely back into the fence.

  The tree line just beyond the barrier stood as a testament to all who looked upon it as a historical record, a reminder of the last time the aliens incinerated every living thing in a five-mile radius from where the spaceship hovered overhead and beamed one of its orange rays down at the locals. That was during the planet's initial invasion. I could only guess at the sight. Imagine what people did, watching, then realizing every living plant and animal vaporized where the ground turned orange. The aliens conquered Earth's largest cities that way. Then the harvesting began. Whatever they did with the people they took was still a mystery. But enough people remained to move back into the empty cities and take up

  residence. Before the aliens began making demands. Forcing city dwellers to live inside these damned wire fences like livestock.

  Like me. What did they plan for me?

  I had to get free.

  I had to escape.

  Time ticked forward until my stinging muscles went numb, and I couldn't feel the hand holding the wire cutters. But I finally pierced the last piece of rusting metal and bent it out of the way. I dropped the snips and ran for the tree line. Trees meant cover. Even though the

  Guardians could sniff me out. I had a chance in the forest.

  Grass whispered against my blue jeans.

  God, was that someone shouting? Run. Just run. I stretched my stride.

  “Lorelei!”

  Who saw me? I'm dead. Dead. I can't be. Not yet. I shoved another hiking boot forward.

  “Wait,” a man shouted.

  Not Yale. Nor Titus. Not even Glover. I glanced over my shoulder.

  Brutus. Enormous. Driving his large black horse straight at me.

  Dead. I'm so dead. I turned back to the trees.

  The pounding rhythm of horse hooves grew louder and louder.

  The sound of a final march. My demise. He said he'd take me back if he caught me. This couldn't be happening. How many more steps did I need to reach the dark tree trunks? Would the effort matter? Brutus was coming. I couldn't outrun him. I'd face him. Beg. I stopped.

  Waiting. For those last few thoughts a free woman could have.

  Panting those moments away.

  Did he realize how I felt? Why would he? He hated Normals. He killed them any chance he could. Maybe he'd kill me. Hopefully. I turned to face his horse's knifing legs.

  His indecipherable mask took no pity on me as I stood there like a blade of grass, waiting for whatever he had planned. He pulled back on his reins, the muscles in his bare arms bulging with the strength a person needed to force a well-fed stallion to halt.

  And the horse obeyed, sliding to a stop.

  “I'm surprised you made such good time,” he said.

  An insult? Now? Why did he toy with me like the cat that cornered the mouse? “Please, just kill me. Please, don't take me back.”

  He walked his horse the three steps to stand beside me and then circled me.

  Eyeing me over. Once. Assessing me with his obscure expression. Was he angry? Annoyed?

  Contemplating the easiest way to end my life?

  His horse stopped again, two steps away, between the opening I'd cut into the barricade and the forest.

  An unearthly chill tickled my skin.

  Something unfolded again. No more. Not something totally unnerving.

  The chill didn't care, seeping beneath my skin and into my bones.

  More than my capture or death happened here.

  Something far worse. Why do I want to run?

  “Why are you afraid of me?” he asked gently.

  What a stupid question. “You warned me you'd take me back if you caught me.”

  He just stared.

  What game did he play? He had to play it with most people. Normals. The man was gorgeous.

  Powerful. Renowned for his Guardian abilities. I'd heard many of the townswomen speak of nothing but mounting him. For what? A last romp before he ripped their heads off? And here he just toyed with me. And I needed to run. Now. Enough of this insanity. I pivoted and started walking.

  Just moving settled my nerves. Running might set him off. On the hunt.

  Whispering grass at my back noted he followed.

  “Where will you go?” he asked.

  Why did he bother asking? “It doesn't matter. My family is dead. That's why I was here. Yale adopted me when my parents were murdered.” And I had no idea what his true intentions were. Stupid girl.

  “He's set a bounty on your head.”

  I bet. “What's the prize?”

  “Lady June's hand in marriage?”

  Ludicrous. I spun to his impenetrable mask. “He was saving her for some political marriage to solidify connections between the new cities.”

  “Apparently, he fears the aliens more than New York or New Boston.”

  An almost inaudible ring sounded.

  From where? Overhead? From the city? Or behind me in the trees?

  My skin crawled.

  “I hear it too,” he said, scanning the trees.

  This was wrong. All wrong. “We've got to go,” I snapped.

  Orange fire shot down through the clouds beyond his shoulders.

  The alien's beam. “Run, Brutus.” I whirled and stretched my stride for the forest.

  * * * *

  That something nagging at the back of Brutus's subconscious came crashing to the front. The beauty's warning and reaction was enough to ki
ck Trance into a full gallop in her wake.

  Toward the old burn line from the last time Pittsburgh was exterminated. The only other place less than a foot underground offering hope. If we could reach the tree line, we were most likely to escape the vaporization ray.

  She shot the most terrified glance back toward the city.

  And slid her gaze to me. If she thought I would run the other way, into the extinguishing light, she was mistaken.

  Protect. Wolf snarled.

  Shit. I couldn't leave her behind. Wolf growling or not. I reached down, hooked my around her waistband, heaved her slender form up over the saddle, and kicked Trance's ribs.

  Quietly, she watched what unfolded behind us. “Faster,” she howled.

  Trance burst between the closest tree trunks into the forest's old growth.

  “Go,” Lorelei yelled.

  Her boot slammed into a trunk.

  “Keep your head and feet down.” I'd be lucky to keep her in one piece if we survived. But stopping to avoid slamming her against trees would be risky. The beam damned sure wasn't aimed at the same spot it was last time. Only fools would believe such stupid things.

  “God, it's coming,” she shouted.

  How much farther would we have to run?

  “Stop. It's over,” she barked. “Let me down.”

  I pulled Trance to a halt and slid her body to the ground. She gaped at the scene behind us, rubbing her ribs.

  The orange glow slowly seeped back to its point of origin.

  What went through her mind? Did she realize she was free of Yale?

  She took a couple steps toward the dying nightmare.

  Not so wise. “Don't go that way. If Yale or his goons made it through the sweep, they'll be coming for you.”

  She paused, the slim form of a woman any man would fight to possess.

  Concealed only by her backpack. Did she have any weapons? Not likely. The way she feared

  I'd come to drag her back to Yale, she would have used whatever she had on me. A man's got to pity a Normal turned on by the rest of her kind. In a nutshell, she wasn't safe here.

  She turned around, gripping the straps of her backpack harness with fists, staring almost blankly at the leaves and grass on the forest floor. Her knees buckled.

  She plopped onto the ground.

  “You can't stay here.” Surely she realized that much.

  She rubbed her face with both palms.

  “You need to go, Lorelei.” I studied the now bare earth as far as I could see.

  She just sat there, holding her face in her hands.

  Hell. They'd find her for certain. I slid out of the saddle and knelt by her side. “Lorelei?”

  She dropped her hands into her lap and stared at the devastation.

  Get up, woman. “Why are you sitting here?”

  She waved a hand at the barren land and lonely buildings. “I killed them.”

  Not so much as a wince graced her aware expression. I'd just have to enlighten her. “They were going to kill you. It's a dog-eat-dog world, Lorelei. Get up and start walking in case any wild dogs lurk nearby.”

  Protect, Wolf snarled.

  One was closer than she thought.

  She locked a stare on me that could have exterminated my ass.

  Maybe I deserved it. But she had to get up. Start walking. I rose and extended a hand.

  Would she accept the help?

  Slowly she glided a palm across mine.

  Warm. Soft. Silken skin.

  Wolf began to pounce, leaping back and forth.

  Sit. Dammit.

  She stood, pulling on my hand, studying the ghost town of New Pittsburgh.

  Calm. Beauty was oddly calm. She needed to release my hand before my Gods-be-damned

  Wolf clawed through my ribcage.

  Her gaze slid to mine.

  Like she wanted to say something.

  She was dead out here alone.

  Protect, Wolf said.

  I couldn't let them kill her before. I wasn't now. Damned dog. “You better come with me.”

  * * * *

  Holding Brutus’ hand was the strangest sensation. Wasn't he the Shifter who despised

  Normals? Why would he take me along? For trade? Women were hot commodities. And his poker face revealed nothing.

  “You can't stay here, Lorelei. You're dead out here alone. I'm heading west. That's away from Yale. You better come with me.”

  He spoke a lot for a man who had little interest in Normals. But he made valuable points. And if I deserved to die for my hand in killing New Pittsburgh's community, Brutus could certainly see to that punishment for me.

  His strong tug led me to the stirrup where he stepped into the saddle, and extended his palm again.

  Those brown eyes of his. Unreadable. What danced within them so obscurely? His inscrutable gaze guaranteed one thing. I had no choice but to go with him. Or maybe that was what gnawed at me the most. I had nowhere to go. With him, I had a chance to find a place to escape him.

  He pulled me behind the saddle to straddle his demon horse's barrel-shaped haunches and headed west.

  Sitting behind his broad shoulders was in itself strange. He seemed to be protecting me. But how could anyone believe a Normal-hating Shifter would safeguard a Normal without payment of some kind? What did he want?

  His mount sidestepped with a hop.

  The world shook.

  I grabbed at Brutus’ solid back, snaking my hands around the curve of his steely ribs.

  He got the horse back on track and shot me an indefinable glance. “Scoot forward. Hang on. I

  don't need to worry about a woman with an injury.”

  Thanks for the insult. I scooted forward anyway, dropping my hands along his sides. No fat on his hard waist. Unlike Glover who shoved me against a wall and pressed his disgusting soft belly body against me. The pig.

  The horse jolted into a trot.

  “We're moving fast now. Hold on,” Brutus barked over his shoulder.

  That was the last thing he said to me until stopping for water at midday.

  Sunlight danced upon the mercurial surface like piercing white light.

  Forcing my eyes to squint. To block the blinding reflection of the hot sun directly overhead where I stood and tried to stretch the kinks out of my screaming leg muscles. At least four hours had passed since Brutus kicked that stallion of his into forward ho. Four mind-numbing joggling torturous stretches of eternity that had to equate to, let me see, sixty minutes times four hours is two-hundred-and-forty minutes. And one minute is sixty seconds. So, that's twohundred—and-forty times sixty. Hell. Too damned long on a horse moving faster than a rocking walk. I planted my palms against my lower back and leaned backward as far as possible.

  Enough to stretch out the kink in said back. How many humans left on earth had been taught to even calculate with simple addition? They were all dead. My tutor. June's cousins. The people who made me who I am. The people who made me laugh. Who...

  Brutus bent over next to his black stallion and ran his palms down the horse's monster front leg.

  Slowly. Almost tenderly by the look of the careful motion. Checking for something. His fingers splayed as if he enjoyed the feel of the beast's rippled flesh. As if they were lovers.

  Measured, premeditated movement that reflected a special relationship tied them together.

  Like mates.

  Brutus reached the leg's shiny black hoof and moved on to assess the rear haunch before squatting beside me.

  “Did you bring food?” Brutus asked.

  The glistening water jigged near my brown hiking boots and the grassy edge of the river.

  Food? From New Pittsburgh? People ate food. I killed all of them. And he wants my crackers. I

  don't deserve their food. But it's all I have. “Yes.” I didn't look at him.

  Didn't want him to know I felt guilty. Felt greedy. Ridiculously possessive with a few crackers.

  He'd saved my life. Hadn't h
e? I owed him the damned crackers. I pulled the backpack off and foraged in the main cavity for the tin while fighting the urge to slide my gaze up the green-and-brown-tones of his camouflaged pants covering his thigh.

  The legs that obviously didn't mind squatting after riding for hours on horseback. I'm in so much trouble. So out of my element. The only weapon I had was a Shifter who despised what

  I was. And I had to clutch his chest for how long before I found some place safe enough to eke out an existence without him and his mount?

  My fingers wriggled past my soft extra clothing inside my pack and bumped the hard tin.

  His meal. I suppose as the female here it was my place to produce a meal. How odd since before last night's party I was never expected to step foot in the kitchen. So much for my new place in life.

  My gut flopped.

  It probably could use a cracker. I popped the tin's rectangular lid and offered the golden rounds to the camouflage-covered thigh beside mine.

  He plucked one circle from the pile.

  Nothing. Not one word. No thanks. I stuck the smooth edge of a cracker between my teeth and bit off a dry piece.

  Buttery. A little salty. Cook always made them the way I liked them. Like fattening up the holiday turkey. Fate somehow saved my neck from the falling axe last night. Why? And what did Brutus have to do with my future? I scanned the opposite bank's mixture of tree trunks with the cracker pinched between a finger and thumb. “Where are we going?”

  “The Wild.”

  Excuse me. But isn't that where we are? I turned my gaze to find his studying me.

  Still the unreadable poker face. Strangely attractive. By his steady brown gaze, the kind that could see right through a person, I knew he could tell I found his squared jaw and perfectly sculpted mouth appealing. I choked down the somewhat moist bite and turned back to the blinding sunlight reflecting off the water. “Aren't we in the wilderness?”

  “Not even close.”

  Well, at least he answered. It was probably easier to think about something other than sex when a female wasn't hanging onto his body behind the saddle. How did my life come to this?

  I'm a murderer. Nothing more than a womb now. Air. I needed air. I placed the tin in the grass and rose.

  His lancing gaze bore through me.

  But pacing helped me shake the queasiness in my gut. I stuffed the cracker between my teeth and tongue and focused on chewing the dry melt-in-your-mouth flatbread.